


Echo of a Supernova

by Fourthiv



Series: Echoes and Prayers [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, But not as angsty as it seems, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, POV Second Person, Slightly poetic and abstract
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-03
Updated: 2014-04-03
Packaged: 2018-01-17 12:22:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1387459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fourthiv/pseuds/Fourthiv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"But he is gone, like an echo of a supernova, that sharp silver dagger pressing forth into the very grace of him, tearing apart his essence to save your soul." </p>
<p>A poetic ficlet about the end of someone's world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Echo of a Supernova

**Author's Note:**

> So, here is a piece I wrote and published on a different fan fiction website at the end of 2012. It has since been updated and expanded, so I decided to publish it here. I was inspired by a song when I first wrote this, and it has been stuck with me ever since.  
> Not beta read.
> 
>  
> 
> **Disclaimer: I own nothing Supernatural related and am making absolutely no profit off of this.**

You could swear it’s the end of the world, brick and paper, rock and dirt, salt and fire, all floating and flying around you, a dance of death from the dawn of time. Ash smears across your body, coating your mouth and choking your mind, and you swear it is burning your eyes, but those are just the tears forming as you watch his body fall before you. The sounds of war and chaos have silenced, a vacuum of noise that is oppressive and deafening.

You fall to your knees, dread and desperation filling every fiber of your being as the loss crosses your heart and dances across your lips. The world shifts focus, shades of grey drowning out the vivid colors of the world, every last red, green, blue and yellow gone, and all that’s left is the cerulean of his eyes, piercing deep into the shreds of your soul, leaving you hollow and confused, left only with the tattered remains of hurt and longing that are overwhelming and heartbreaking. 

But he is gone, like an echo of a supernova, that sharp silver dagger pressing forth into the very grace of him, tearing apart his essence to save your soul. There is nothing left. He is gone, they’re all gone, dead to save the world, to save the rotten, corrupted shards of your brother’s soul, to give him an end of peace from a life of suffering. He is gone, grace burnt out, wings of ash below him, only for you, always for you, safe and sound, but you are alone. It is nothing you have ever wanted, but it is your reward, a lifetime of service to save the world, and this is your reward. 

You look at your hands, these killer’s hands, and you can swear the decades of blood has stained them straight to the center of your being, straight to the soul that he burnt to pull you out of hell, that same soul he died to protect, the same soul that intertwined with his overpowering grace and beauty, like an ant trying to become one with a god. You replay every second of his end in your mind, clinging to the desperate hope that you are wrong, that you were somehow deceived. It is a film you can not bare to witness further, his huge blue eyes full of regret and determination, and you can feel your heart shatter once again when you realize he knew all along how it would end; that you were so ignorant of this destroys what little resolve you had left.

The weight of this moment, of your loss and redemption, drowns you, crushes your chest like the deepest parts of the ocean until you can’t bear it anymore and you choke out a sob so broken it tears apart the heavens, rippling across time and space, so far and so long that even the ancient gods can hear your sorrow. You have to move, you have to go on, but your grief stills your body and your mind, shoulders shaking as you silently weep. There is nothing left to keep you going, nothing that can fill the void he left behind, the void he had so slowly and expertly filled as he raised you from your own perdition. You can feel the tears streaming down your face, the terror and utter fear staining you, shaming you, for your selfishness is what is left. He gave his life for this moment, he gave his very essence, his everything, just for you.

So you bow your head and pray. You pray to a god you never had faith in, even when his very child came forth to save you, to protect you, to love you. You pray for another chance, another moment, for happiness you never believed you deserved. You pray for a miracle, for another life, for something more than this hollow ending that he designed for you. And lightning strikes, like a halo of chaos and question, thunder rolling across the expanse of your world, like golden wisps of grace surrounding you. It reminds you of the feathers from your angel in a night of passion, of slick skin and whispered vows, of chapped lips and furtive gazes, of nimble fingers that danced across the constellations across your skin. You recall his deep voice, growls and promises of love and longing whispered in your ear, ecstasy and blasphemy rolling from the tongue of God’s creature, corrupted, taken apart, remade into more by his love for you. 

You are overwhelmed by these memories in this moment, yet the meaning is beyond you, above you, beneath you, and you heed nothing of this portent, the perfect clarity and answered prayers trying so desperately to dig deep beneath your anguish and into the heart that died with him. You hear nothing, you see nothing, you feel nothing of the world around you as the fervent pleas fall upon deaf ears of the world, silent and unmoving against the weight of your guilt, but they light up the heavens brighter than your sorrow. You grieve, curling deep inside yourself as you lay your face upon the cold, hard world, wanting nothing but to become one with the earth and forgo the shell of humanity so hard and unyielding against the hole inside you. 

And you are unaware of the blinding light above you, the answer to everything you’ve ever needed, ever desired. Against everything you have ever known, He has answered your prayers. Yet you weep, unobservant and destroyed, weaker than you have ever been before, falling deeper into the center of your sorrow as your lament crosses the expanse of the universe. You are lost in this moment, broken and beaten, a heartbeat away from giving up until you feel it, until you feel warmth embracing you once again. It is familiar, comforting, like the first rays of sunshine after winter. It is something you never thought you would feel again.

As you look up with eyes torn asunder by the sight before you the silence in your heart is broken by the promise of him, and the meaning of his return. He reaches out to you, real and unwavering, a second chance in the flesh. And as you take his hand, the world shifts, and rights itself again like a myriad of colors through the prism of your heart when you hear those two words once again.

_“Hello Dean”_

**Author's Note:**

> Companion piece in the works, nearly half way done, however I am notoriously bad with getting things done. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed!


End file.
